The Baptized (aside). I thrice spew thee forth to destruction!—(To the Man). Leonard might recognize me, your excellency. Do you not see the knife glittering upon his breast?
The Man. Wrap yourself up in my cloak. What ladies are those dancing before him you call Leonard?
The Baptized. Princesses and countesses who have forsaken their husbands.
The Man. Once my angels!!
The people now surround him on every side, I can see him no longer, I only know by the retreating music that he is going farther from us. Follow me, Jew, we can see him better up here!
He clambers up the parapet of a wall.
The Baptized. Woe! woe! We will certainly be discovered.
The Man. There, now I can see him again! Ha! other women are with him now, pale, confused, trembling, following him convulsively; the son of the philosopher foams and brandishes his dagger; they are stopping by the ruins of the North Tower.
They remain standing for a moment, they climb upon the ruins, they tear them down, they pull the shrine apart, they throw coals upon the prostrate altars, the votive wreaths, the holy pictures; the fire kindles, columns of smoke darken all before me: Woe to the destroyers! Woe!
Leonard. Woe to the men who still bow down before the dead God!